2011年1月20日 星期四

The Trenta is 7 ounces larger than Starbucks’ “Venti” (shown here) for iced drinks, which currently is its largest size on offer

LOS ANGELES — Starbucks Corp will roll out its biggest drink size yet — the 31-ounce ”Trenta” — in all of its U.S. coffee shops by May 3, the company said Sunday

The new size will be available only for iced coffee, iced tea and iced tea lemonade drinks in the United States. The Trenta is 7 ounces larger than Starbucks’ “Venti” cup for iced drinks, which currently is its largest size on offer.

Drinks in the Trenta size will cost 50 cents more than similar Venti-sized iced drinks, the company said.

Seattle-based Starbucks tested the new size in several U.S. markets last year, saying it was responding to customer demand for larger cold beverages.

The Trenta size will debut in 14 states, including Virginia, Georgia, Florida, Texas, Hawaii and Arizona, on Jan. 18 and in California on Feb. 1.

The world’s biggest coffee chain said unsweetened drinks in the new size will have fewer than 90 calories and that sweetened versions will have less than 230 calories.

Ristretto | Is Coffee in Paris Improving?

Last year, I wrote a column that wondered why Paris doesn’t have better coffee. Or, to quote Duane Sorenson of Stumptown Coffee Roasters, “Why does the coffee in Paris suck so bad?”

The flurry of comments that followed was split between agreement and outrage. (“Is this article a bit of cultural imperialism?” asked one. “A better question is why America sucks so bad,” wrote another.) Since then, I’ve been back to Paris and I can report that the coffee is improving. Little by little.

To be clear, most of the coffee in Paris is still rote. The beans are still old and over-roasted, the machines are still second-rate and poorly maintained, and the person behind the bar is still more concerned with continuing his or her conversation than pulling a good shot. Robusta is still popular, as is ultra-pasteurized milk.

But there are some new developments changing things for the better.

Last spring, Café Lomi, a small-batch roaster, opened in the 17th Arrondissement. Then in August it hosted the first Frog Fight, a throwdown that, in its own words, is “organisé par des baristas pour des baristas.” The winner competes for the right to baby-sit the trophy, pictured above, until the following Frog Fight. (The next one will be held at Café Lomi on Thursday, Jan. 13.) The throwdowns are lively, good-natured, a breath of indie air in a city where massive corporations dominate the coffee industry.

Frog Fight is organized by Thomas Lehoux and David Flynn, who met when working at le Cafeotheque (52, rue de l’Hôtel-de-Ville, 011-33-1-53-01-83-84), an artisanal roaster and cafe in the Cité des Arts. Lehoux is currently training for the French Barista Championship, to be held in Lyon later this month, while Flynn works at Le Bal (6 Impasse de la Défense, 011-33-1-44-70-75-51; www.le-bal.fr), a casual, spare restaurant in the front of a converted 1920s dance hall just off the Place de Clichy. After going on a few coffee crawls in Paris, it became clear that le Bal stands apart. In fact, in my opinion, Le Bal has the best coffee in Paris.

Le Bal is actually an arts institute. There are cavernous exhibition spaces and an excellent bookstore, with a cinema right around the corner. The building is tucked away on a dead-end cobblestone street in what was once a working-class area.

The restaurant opened in the fall with Alice Quillet and Anna Trattles in the kitchen. The two chefs spent time at Rose Bakery (on the nearby rue des Martyrs) and St. John (in London), and the food they cook is confident, flavorful — whole lamb kidneys with toast, meaty hunks of oxtail in rich broth. Lunch and dinner are popular, while weekend brunches are a madhouse. Go early, or prepare to stand in line.

The restaurant doesn’t open until 10 a.m. Wednesday through Sunday (it’s closed Monday and Tuesday), which is a little late for the morning’s first coffee. But it’s worth the wait. Flynn once worked at Murky Coffee, the almost-legendary Washington, D.C. coffee shop that closed in 2009, and he has the poise and authority of an expert barista. The espresso, made with Café Lomi coffee, is tight and bright; the cappuccino is rich and satisfying. In what might be a first for Paris, Chemex coffee is brewed to order.

Le Bal is just the most exceptional of a new crop of Paris cafes. Recently,the stalwart Le Cafeotheque was joined by Merce and the Muse (1 bis rue Dupuis; 011-33-9-53-14-53-04), which opened in the fashionable northern end of the Marais. Soon Coutume Café (47 rue de Babylone) will be roasting beans in a storefront a short, brisk walk from the Bon Marché. Until construction is completed, there’s a la Marzocco FB-80 set up on a cart in front of a tarp next to the sidewalk.

For the most part, coffee in Paris still sucks so bad, but it’s getting better, and the scene forming around the monthly Frog Fight is a peek into what might be the city’s future. Now, a handful of Paris cafes have good coffee. Depending on who’s behind the bar, the coffee can be great.

2011年1月15日 星期六

By MATT GOULDING and MATT BEAN

Published: January 14, 2011

ON a fog-dense spring afternoon in the Belgian countryside beer connoisseurs had flocked to Westvleteren, a far-flung town in the southwest corner of West Flanders, to sample what many of them consider to be the best beer in the world.

Related

Jock Fistick for The New York Times

Stéphane Chabert, left, of France receives a generous pour of Kriek from Jean Van Roy, a fourth-generation owner of the Brasserie Cantillon.

The nectar in question was Westvleteren 12, a rich, brown-hued brew that has double the alcohol of most beers and a reputation to match, and that can be bought only at the In De Vrede cafe and across the street at the St. Sixtus Abbey. Cyclists in Spandex clattered about in cleats as Belgian families quietly nibbled on cheese plates and pâté. The only party missing was the monks who brewed the hallowed beer.

Nestled in this province’s verdant farmlands, the St. Sixtus Abbey houses one of six official Trappist breweries in Belgium. The monks have perfected their craft over more than 160 years, and despite closing the brewery to visitors, shunning advertising, retail outlets and even labels, their beer has taken top honors from enthusiast sites like RateBeer.com and BeerAdvocate.com. (The only sure way to bring home the brew — save the black market — is by calling the Abbey’s “beerphone” to reserve a case for pick-up. And even then the monks will supply only one case a person, a month; no resales allowed.)

For the bona fide beer geek, the lure of this brewery and its beer might be motivation enough for a long-distance journey to Belgium. But St. Sixtus and the other Trappist temples are only part of the draw. Joining these cloistered few outposts scattered about the country in recent years are a crop of cutting-edge breweries and welcoming beer bars supplementing the old guard. There’s never been a better time for the thirsty traveler to turn a short trip to Belgium into the best beer-centric study-abroad program one could hope for, rivaling an oenophile’s romp through Bordeaux.

Brussels was once the heart of the brewing industry, with more than 100 active brewers. And while output has waned significantly — it’s now down to two brewers, and until December was down to one — it has spawned a thriving beer cafe culture, on display one recent night at the west-side outpost of the beer bar Moeder Lambic.

“They say that Belgium is the country of beers, but 99 percent of the beers people drink here are bad ones,” said Jean Hummler, one of the bar’s owners, commanding nods from a table that had grown crowded with bottles, glasses and guests, including Yvan De Bates, the founder of De La Senne brewery.

In 2007, shortly after opening the first Moeder Lambic bar south of Brussels in the St. Gilles region, Mr. Hummler and his partner, Nassim Dessicy, fought the brewing giant Duvel to void a contract signed by the previous owners stipulating that his taps include several offerings from the mega-brewer. Now the two Moeder Lambic bars (this one opened in 2009) stand as bastions of good brewing, offering one of the most unique selections in Brussels.

“We’re fighting for the small brewers,” Mr. Hummler said. “Every day, I’m fighting for Cantillon, I’m fighting for De La Senne. If we don’t do it, nobody will.”

Mr. Hummler summoned flight after flight from the bar’s 300-odd selections, proffering exotic, acidic gueuze made across town, and a pour from the most expensive beer there, the 200-euro-a-bottle crianza (about $255, at $1.31 to the euro) from Mr. De Bates’s brewery, which opened in December and specializes in blending old techniques and styles with new ingredients.

“We are at the beginning of a new era,” Mr. De Bates said. “Tradition and experimentation are equally important. Belgium is a wonderful place to appreciate that it’s not about a brewery being old or new — it’s about the brewer’s values and ideas and respect for the beer. If you visit enough breweries, you’ll see that we’re all talking the exact same language."

In other words, hit the road.

In a squat warehouse across town is Brussels’ other brewery, Brasserie Cantillon, a working museum of Belgian beer history. Not much at Cantillon has changed since it opened in 1900: giant grain movers are strung with leather belts; casks seem fit for the days of Columbus; and spider webs are left alone to help foster the ambient terroir. The beers, too, are as traditional as you’ll find, from sour, funky lambic and gueuze beers to variations aged with cherries, raspberries and apricots.

“We never manipulate our beers to make an easy product,” said Julie Van Roy, who runs the brewery with her brother Jean, removing a cheesecloth covering from a clay jar filled with Faro, a sweetened lambic so effervescent it defies bottling. “Some brewers, instead of taking three years, they do it in three weeks. Instead of using real fruit, they use juice.”

Ms. Van Roy fills a pair of glasses. The rough-hewn nectar is a refreshing, barnyard-and-candy cap on the Cantillon visit — another lesson in the diversity of brewing methods.

That lesson continues in Bruges, a two-hour train ride west of Brussels, at ’t Brugs Beertje, or the Bruges Bear. Since opening in 1983, the Bruges Bear has amassed a thick binder featuring rare brews and old standbys among the more than 300 Belgian selections. But the real draw is its owner, Daisy Claeys, a patient steward steeped in stories behind each brew she serves. Her favorite beer is Oerbier, from the De Dolle brewers. And as capable as she’d be of telling you about it, she’d rather you drive the 25 miles south to Esen, to the brewery itself.

Over at De Dolle, a 2 p.m. Sunday tour, in English, is led by Anna Hertleer, the mother of De Dolle’s two founders. One of them, Kris, is head brewer whose passion for experimentation helped fuel the revival of Belgian beers in the 1980s.

“We have only one aim: to make a completely natural product,” Ms. Hertleer said as she climbed up a steep steel staircase. “They have kidnapped Mr. Heineken, they have kidnapped Ms. Guinness, but they won’t kidnap us.”

Leading visitors through musty rooms filled with copper kettles, Ms. Hertleer peppered her description of the brewing process with strong opinions on everything from the health benefits of the whole hops used in some of the beers to the Trappist mystique.

The tour ends with a tasting: there’s the fruit-and-spice pale ale Bos Keun, the full-throttle 12 percent Stile Nacht and Oerbier, which balances a complex, raisin-like sweetness with a tart, bracing finish. In the United States, a 12-ounce bottle is $10. Here Oerbier is $2 a goblet, poured by Kris Hertleer himself.

From De Dolle, you’re close to Westvleteren and the monks of St. Sixtus, but it’s best to rest first at the Brouwershuis, a converted bed-and-breakfast owned by the St. Bernardus brewery. Rooms at the Brouwershuis, in the heart of West Belgium hops country, start at 75 euros a night. This includes breakfast and a tour of the neighboring brewery, which produced Westvleteren 12 under contract until 1992.

The hostess, Jacky Cockheyt, will leave you the key and free rein of the Brouwershuis, including the two refrigerators stocked with St. Bernardus’s beers, from the rare Grottenbier to the St. Bernardus 12. The beer is included in the price.

The next day is an opportunity for another adventure. You’ll find a fleet of bicycles behind the Brouwershuis’s residences, all tagged for road duty.

Do you take a left at the town square in Westvleteren to visit the avant-garde De Struisse brewers in Oostvleteren?

Or do you take a right, rolling toward In De Vrede for the pleasure of sampling what many consider the best beer in the world?

2011年1月6日 星期四

Drinking fancy wine is so last decade. In today's speculative markets, produce from the world's great chateaux is leaving other "hard" assets in the dust. London's Liv-Ex fine wine exchange's index of top 50 wines rose 57% for 2010. That easily outperformed gold's 29.8% rise, converted to U.K. pounds to be on an equivalent basis with Liv-Ex's index, or oil's 15.1% increase, also converted to pounds. As for equities, the FTSE 100, for instance, was up just 9%.

Liv-Ev attributes the price surge to heavy demand from—you guessed it—China, as well as some other Asian countries. Given extreme supply constraints and a surge in the world's megarich, the fine wine 50 index is up 269% over five years.

If the market turns, investors mightn't find the asset as liquid as they would like. But, for now, the lesson seems to be that those wanting to make some greenbacks should target reds or whites.